


Pale Skin, Dark Soul, Warm Heart

by secondalto



Series: Written in Flesh and Blood [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Feels, Platonic Soulmates, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondalto/pseuds/secondalto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha refuses to believe in love. Sam Wilson will change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pale Skin, Dark Soul, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> There are tweaks to things that happen in The Winter Soldier, to fit with the story and the series.
> 
> With thanks to Rainne for her continuing awesomeness.

Natalia Alianovna Romonova is born in Stalingrad. She remembers nothing of her parents. She is told her birth year is 1928, but no one can tell her a month or a day. All she knows of her childhood is the Red Room. They were her mother and father, they took her in. She is told she is an orphan. Natalia will later think this was the best thing anyone could have done for her. If she has no parents, no family, she cannot make attachments.

They teach her ballet from the time she is three, molding and shaping her body. When she is seven they add gymnastics. At ten she begins the first of several martial arts disciplines. She masters them all with skill and ease. She learns other languages from the moment she enters the Red Room. Besides her native Russian she will be able to speak English, French, German and Spanish before she is let out in the field. She will be able to acquire others quickly as she needs them.

Natalia sees the soul marks on those who teach her, who raise her, and she asks about them. She learns that she will not get one, not yet. She is told that a mark will give her away. She is being trained for secrecy, to be hidden, to be unnoticeable. But they tell her that if she works hard, does as she is ordered, she will be able to leave, to live a normal life and get a soul mark. She should not have believed them.

She learns the art of seduction. Sex as a weapon will become her greatest strength. Her teachers notice her pale skin and flaming red hair, telling her they are her greatest asset. Natalia will wield them well. Her first job is at sixteen. She doesn’t kill, but seduces to achieve her goal. Her first kill is at eighteen. She is disappointed when she doesn’t receive her mark, but knows it is for the greater good.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yasha is one of the most handsome men she has ever met. Natalia has been paired up with this man for an assignment. He did not have a name, so she calls him Yasha. It suits him. He is not Russian, though his accent is flawless and he broods as well as a native. She watches him watching the crowd and is astounded at how she reacts to him. For the first time in her life she wishes she had not come to the Red Room. She wishes that she could know Yasha’s true name, so that it would appear as her soul mark.

He looks at her with sorrow when she tells him that she wishes for his name when she leaves the program. He knows something she does not. But Natalia doesn’t push; they have a target to eliminate. When the work is done, he tells her goodbye with a kiss to her forehead. She laughs and pulls him down for a proper kiss. He responds but only for a moment.

“Natalia,” he sighs. “Don’t be in such a hurry to get older.”

“I will see you again, Yasha. Maybe then I will have my mark. Maybe it will be your name,” she replies, smiling at him.

“Maybe.” The smile he returns doesn’t reach his eyes.

It will be a long time before she sees him again.

Natalia works diligently for the Red Room. She waits for others to be let out, to lead normal lives. It never happens. She begins to question if she will ever live the normal life she was promised. The years continue on into decades. The Soviet Union breaks apart and Natalia survives it all to see Mother Russia a free country. She cashes in a large favor she is owed, mostly because the man who owes it to her is dying and she may not have another chance to collect.

He comes to her with a file, a physical file several inches thick. It is hers, from the Red Room. As she reads Natalia can feel her blood go cold. She knew that there were things they did to her to make her different, but there is one thing that feels like so much betrayal. From the beginning she was one of their best students, so the men in charge made a decision. Some HYDRA scientist had made his way to the country after the fall of Nazi Germany. He had brought with him a small sample of a serum made by a Doctor Abraham Erskine. This serum had been used on two men: Johann Schmidt, known as the Red Skull, and Steven Rogers, known as Captain America.

The leaders of the Red Room used it on Natalia without regard to the consequences. She grew stronger, more agile, healed quickly. But in studying her blood, they found that the serum in combination with the chemical suppressant they gave all operatives meant that Natalia would never receive her soul mark. As she read the last sentence, her hands trembled with rage. She tore at the file, ripping and shredding it. The pages of it drifted all around her as she screamed and cried.

Yasha had said something to her during their brief time together. At the time she was sure he meant it in jest. But now Natalia takes the sentiment to heart. _Love is for children_. They wanted her to be a cold and calculating killer. Then she will be that. No one will ever have her heart. She will never have to bend to the dictates of a name. She is her own woman. She will be so for the rest of her life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam Wilson tries to play it cool when it comes to his soul mark, but he is as eager as everyone else to find out the name he will get. He didn’t remember having any pain during the night. He is used to pain, having done gymnastics for years. He isn’t Olympic-level good, but it keeps him in shape and out of trouble. When he goes to look in a mirror on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, he gets a huge surprise.

There is something curled horizontally around his right bicep, but it doesn’t look like any name he’s ever seen. The mark is a darker black against his skin with hints of red as he twists and turns under the lights. The script is no language Sam knows. There is a T at the beginning, maybe an A, and is that a 3 in there? His soul mate is not a native English speaker. That is going to be interesting.

When he goes downstairs for breakfast, his shirt covers the mark. He gets out a bowl for some cereal; trying not to bristle under the gaze of his mother. He pours out Fruit Loops, adding milk before he sits. She looks at him, but he still resists. Then she gives him a look and he sighs. He drops the spoon into the bowl and rolls up his sleeve, turning so she can see it.

“Well, isn’t that something,” she says.

“I know,” he sighs, rolling the sleeve back down.

She smiles gently at him. “I have some money set aside, if you want to go to one of those places, Samuel. Find out his or her name.”

“Nah,” he replies. He won’t comment on the fact that his ma thinks it’s perfectly fine if he gets a guy’s name. “I like the mystery. It’ll be even more special when I meet them.”

“Are you sure, Sammy?”

“I’m sure, ma,” he says. “Save your money for something else. It’s not that important.”

And it really isn’t. At least he knows he has a soul mate out there somewhere. Some of his friends didn’t get one on their eighteenth and they are all worried that they might be one of the unlucky one percent. Sam figures he’s got time to figure out who his is. Whoever they are, he hopes they are as special as the mark they’ve left on his arm.

*~*~*~*~

Sam endures the teasing and ribbing from his friends. He smiles through the constants questions.

“Don’t you want to know their name?”

“Why don’t you want to know?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know!”

Sam manages to graduate without killing any of them. He goes to community college for a while but nothing speaks to him. Nothing catches his interest, guides him into what he might want to do for the rest of his life. He’s walking downtown when something catches his eye. It’s a Captain America poster. A reproduction to be sure because all the old ones – the ones that survived the war anyway – are worth a pretty penny these days. Sam knows; he used to collect the Cap comics. Still has them somewhere in his mom’s basement.

The poster is faded, with Cap smiling and pointing his finger out at the public. It’s stuck inside the window of the Army recruitment office. Sam knows a few guys who were in ROTC, heard some stories about what was happening half a world away. He shrugs and figures why not. As he’s signing his papers, he knows that his mama is either gonna be so proud of him or is gonna kill him. Either way, there are going to be tears.

Sam shows off some of his skill in Basic, and gets recruited for paratrooper rescue. Jumping out of planes is another thrill all together. He knows his fellow recruits stare at his mark. He’s long past the point of caring these days. Some of his superiors act like they can read it, but none of them say anything to him. Maybe they figure he paid to find out what the name was.

Two weeks into training Sam gets another mark. _J. Riley_ scrawls across his left forearm in gold. He’s going to meet his platonic soul mate soon. He does wonder why there is just a first initial rather than a name though. He plans to ask about that the first chance he gets. He meets Riley when he’s picked for a special program. Riley is tall and redheaded with freckles covering his face.

“Irish,” Riley says in explanation. His gold mark marches across the back of his hands.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Sam replies, nodding to Riley’s hands.

Riley shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s my first mark. I haven’t got any others yet. Though I was a little scared you’d turn out to be a woman, not that there would be anything wrong with that. I have plenty of female friends.” Riley blushes the brightest pink Sam’s ever seen.

“Want a shovel to dig yourself out with?” They both laugh. Sam twists his own arm, pointing at his first mark. “At least I could read your name.”

“Wow, Cyrillic. Don’t see that very often any more,” Riley comments as he leans forward to looks at it.

Sam gapes. “You can read that?”

“Uh, yeah. Cyrillic, the written form of Russian. My nana is from the old country, she taught me to read and write it. Can’t speak it worth a damn though. You didn’t get it translated? I could tell you if you want me to,” Riley comments.

“No, no, I kind of like the mystery. But I did have one question. Why just J?”

Riley rubs at the back of his neck. “I really don’t like my name. It’s a family name. Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I ain’t promising shit, man.”

“Jedidiah,” Riley mumbles.

Sam whoops, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’t blame you at all, J. Don’t blame you at all,” he says finally.

They become fast friends, brothers almost. They also become one of the best teams for the new EXO-7’s. Sam is happy he walked into that recruitment office.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Natasha and Clint have been undercover in Budapest for several months now. They are posing as newlyweds and have had to infiltrate a network that is very wary of strangers. Clint is missing Phil something fierce. It might have something to do with the fact that their anniversary is coming up soon. Natasha has come a long way from the streets of Istanbul where Clint told her about platonic soul marks.

He is the brother she never had. The best friend she was never allowed to have. He is her partner and her confidant. Clint knows most of her secrets. He and Phil have shown her that love is not to be scorned, but she still clings to the notion that she will never let herself be tied to another person that way. Clint insists that out there somewhere is a person with her name and that one day she will change her mind. She indulges him. There are days though, when deep in her soul she envies that Clint and Phil have each other.

She and Clint return from a dinner with their mark and his family when they see Phil standing outside their hotel room door.

“Phil, what are you doing here?” Clint hisses as he opens the door.

“I can’t check on my assets?” he asks calmly, slipping inside the room.

Tasha shakes her head. “Not when we could be followed, Phil. You know better.”

“I got this, Tasha. You weren’t and no one saw me enter the hotel.”

“So you just used government equipment and satellites to secure a booty call with your husband.” She glares at him.

“I… no…. Tasha it’s been…,” Phil splutters.

“Come on, Tasha,” Clint whines. “It’s been months. And it’s our anniversary.”

“Which is why I am giving you an hour. No more, no less,” she states. Then she smiles and kisses them both on the cheek. “Enjoy each other, Дорогие.” She turns, clutch in hand and walks out of the room. She hears the door lock behind her and is glad she has a spare key card. She goes down to the bar to have a drink. The vodka here is decent, and she enjoys watching the comings and goings of the hotel patrons.

There are ten minutes left on the hour she gave them when trouble arrives in the form of Anatoly Pachenko, their mark. He’s wanted for many crimes, including but not limited to gun running, nuclear arms dealing, and the prostitution of young girls. He spots her and grins. Tasha plasters a smile on her face and hopes like hell that Phil and Clint are wrapping things up.

“Yvetta, why are you sitting here, drinking alone?” he asks, coming up to her and kissing her on both cheeks.

“Peter had some business calls to make,” she replies, “I got bored and came down here to watch the people. What brings you here, Anatoly?”

“I was coming to tell you both that your offer has been accepted. I was going to propose champagne to seal our deal,” he says. He puts an arm around her shoulders and it is all Tasha can do not to rip it off.

“Wonderful. Why don’t I order a bottle and we can take it up. I’m sure Peter is done with his calls.” She places the order with the bartender. It takes five minutes to get to her and it will take another five to get to her floor. She orders a drink for Anatoly and they chit chat while waiting for the champagne. He sets a hand in the small of her back as he guides her into the elevator. She recites Russian poetry in her head. When they get to the door, she fishes out the key card, checking to make sure her weapon is still there. “Peter, dear, you’ll never guess who I… oh my!” She puts a hand to her mouth, gasping dramatically for Anatoly.

Phil and Clint are thankfully clothed, if disheveled, but are kissing quite passionately. Anatoly steps in front of her, glaring at them. They break off, surprised. Clint gives her the barest of nods and she responds in kind.

“Peter! How dare you insult Yvetta like this?” Anatoly exclaims, stepping forward.

Tasha has her Widow’s Bite out and hits Anatoly with it. He spasms and goes down quickly. Clint checks his pulse.

“Nice shot,” he comments.

“Thank you. Hurry, I’m sure he has guards outside the hotel. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you were wearing clothes.”

“I’ve got Pachenko,” Phil says, hoisting the man from the floor over his shoulders. “You two will have to cover me. I’ve got the Glocks, Clint.”

Clint swears. “I hate using guns. Remind me why I couldn’t bring my bow along?” he asks as he picks up Phil’s weapons and checks them.

“Because it didn’t fit with your cover,” Tasha says.

They get to the garage level with no trouble, but Anatoly’s guards are there. They shoot their way to the car, screeching out of the lot, Phil calling for SHIELD backup. “One day we’re going to look back at this and laugh,” Phil says as they shoot out the tires of the car chasing them.

“Next time, wait until we’re safely out of the country before you jump your husband,” Tasha yells.

“Someday you’ll know what this feels like,” Clint replies, grinning. He has hickies on his neck and looks at Phil like he hung the moon. Tasha thinks it will be better if she doesn’t. They nearly compromised the whole mission. It truly is better that she has no soul mark.

*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Riley are more than a team now. They are rarely mentioned in conversation by their squad as individuals. Where one is, there you can find the other. They have logged hundreds of missions, perfecting the art of rescuing people from tight spots. Having Riley at his side has made Sam’s two tours worth every minute. He brought the kid back to meet his ma during leave one year. She kind of adopted him into the Wilson clan.

Sam is there when, six years in, Riley finally gets his romantic soul mark. It curls around his spine in a beautiful blue-green script. He laughs as he traces it. “Joanna Bowers,” he reads to Riley. “Sounds like a hell of a woman.”

“Sure does,” Riley grins, clapping Sam on the back. “Can’t wait to introduce the two of you.”

Two days later they are on a night mission that should be routine. They are nearing their target when the RPG comes out of nowhere. Sam watches in horror as Riley goes down. Sam calls for back up, knowing it will be a while before anyone can get there. He tries to fly down, to go for Riley. He can’t leave him there on the desert floor. They were – are – platonics. The brass are ordering him back to base; it isn’t safe out here. Sam swears a blue streak. But he does as he’s ordered. Riley wouldn’t want him to die out there too.

They bring Riley’s body in the next day. Sam’s platonic mark is gone. Riley’s is still there. The new romantic mark is still there, bright and mocking. He wonders how long it will be before they fade. Sam also can’t help but wonder about poor Joanna who was probably so excited to get her mark and is now clueless as to why it is gone after just two days. He writes a letter to Riley’s family. Words will never be enough to convey the pain and anguish he feels. His CO offers him an out, says he can go home. Sam refuses, he’ll stay for the remaining two years of his tour. He’ll train others on the newer versions of the EXO. Riley’s wings are too damaged to be reused; they are packed off and sent who knows where. Sam gets to keep his for now. It isn’t the same, being in the sky without Riley.

When he goes home, Sam is lost. He sits around his mother’s house, mourning. She finally pushes him to get help. He goes to the local VA. The counselors there get him through his grief, his feeling of guilt. He finds Joanna and sends her a letter. He gets one back, thanking him for the explanation. He hopes she can find someone else, even without a mark. Sam keeps going to the VA, helping out others. He thinks he’s finally found what he’s supposed to do with his life. He does wonder if his other soul mate - his romantic one - will come to love the man he is now, stitched back together from the pieces he left behind in Afghanistan.

*~*~*~*~*

Tasha hates Tony Stark with all of her being. He is a prime example of why she doesn’t believe in soul marks. She knows that he has a name but yet he still spent all of his time before the incident in Afghanistan carousing and sleeping with countless women. He doesn’t deserve the love of anyone, especially someone like Pepper Potts. The one thing she intensely dislikes about the assignment is having to lie to Pepper. She seems to be a good woman and Tasha thinks that under normal circumstances they might have been friends.

She makes the assessment to Director Fury that Iron Man would be an asset for the team Fury is looking to build, but Tony isn’t. Contradictory? Yes, but it’s the truth. All seems well for a while until something happens with the Tesseract. She is on assignment when Phil calls her to tell her about Clint. There is something in his voice, something meant only for her. Phil is telling her that he has looked and his mark is still there, Clint is still alive. After she has taken care of the men who had ‘captured’ her, he asks her to go after Banner. When all is said and done, Tasha wishes she’d lobbied harder to talk to Stark.

When she meets Steve Rogers, she is a little awestruck. She had read the files on him, but they don’t do him justice. Another lifetime ago… He is still adjusting to this new century, to a life without his soul mates. Yet another reason Tasha is glad she has none. She will not have to experience the grief of seeing one fade from her skin. Steve’s life is tragic and she would not wish it upon herself. She has her own tragedies.

Once they have Loki on board the Helicarrier, Tasha knows that she must approach him eventually. They need to know what his plans are, why he gave in so easily when he could have escaped. She is the best person aboard the ship to do it. Not just for the information, but also for her own peace of mind. He’s facing the other wall of the cage when she enters the detainment area.

“There’s not many people who can sneak up on me,” he comments before turning to face her.

“But you figured I’d come,” she says. She stares at him, wishing the glass was not between them so she can get her hands on him.

He nods, stepping slowly towards her. “After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.”

“I want to know what you’ve done to Agent Barton,” she says, focused on her own personal mission first. It’s what he’s expecting anyway.

“I’d say I’ve expanded his mind,” Loki replies.

She approaches him with deliberate steps. “And once you’ve won, once you’re king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?” She crosses her arms, waiting for the answer. Tasha knows that Clint will have a long road ahead of him once he is free of Loki. She will be there for him.

“Is this love, Agent Romanoff?” Loki knows nothing of soul marks. Thor had said they were not a part of Asgardian culture, and that he’d told no one but his mother of Doctor Foster’s name on his arm.

She gives him the sentiment from Yasha, the one she still mostly believes. “Love is for children. I owe him a debt.”

“Tell me,” he insists, walking backwards to sit on the bench at the back of the cage.

She sits in a chair that just happens to be nearby. “Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh… well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill set. I didn’t care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD’s radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me. He made a different call.” One she thanks him for every day of her life.

Loki looks down at his hands, taking her words in. “And what will you do if I vow to spare him?”

“Not let you out,” she says quickly.

“Ah, no,” he laughs, leaning forward. “But I like this. Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

She shrugs and shakes her head. “Regimes fall every day. I tend not weep over that, I’m Russian… or I was,” she says with a tilt of her head.

“And what are you now?” He gives her a look, one that she ignores.

“It’s really not that complicated,” she replies, as she stands and approaches the cage once more. And what she tells him is mostly true. “I’ve got red in my ledger, I’d like to wipe it out.”

“Can you?” he asks. “Can you wipe out that much red? Drakov’s daughter? Sᾶo Paulo? The hospital fire?” He is listing some of the worst things Tasha has done. She has nightmares about those things. “Barton told me everything. Your ledger is dripping, it’s gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?” He gets up from the bench. Loki’s expression is menacing now as he stalks as close to the glass as he can. “This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer… PATHETIC! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away!” Loki is full of righteous anger as he slams a fist into the glass. Tasha flinches. It is a true reaction because she doesn’t know how strong he or the glass is. “I won’t touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you! Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you fear! And then he’ll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I’ll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!”

She turns from him, walking a short distance away. It’s to make him think he’s scared her. But in reality it’s so that she doesn’t react, doesn’t let her guard down and ruin the plan. She pretends to let her shoulders shake as she lets a tremor of distress into her reply.

“You’re a monster.”

Loki laughs at her. “No, you brought the monster.”

She lifts her head, turns back, poised and herself once more. “So, Banner… that’s your play.”

“What?” he asks, stepping back from the glass in surprise.

Tasha speaks into her earpiece, relaying the information to Fury as she walks away. Then she looks back at the confused god and nods her head. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Later, when she has taken Clint down and secured him to a bed in the medical wing, she can breathe a little easier. She needs the time while he is out to compose herself, to allow herself a moment of grief. Loki killed Phil. She liked Phil, knew and saw how much he meant to Clint. She picks up Clint’s hand, where Phil’s name had been and doesn’t know how she is going to break it to him. He wakes and she tells him as gently as she can. But he has no time to properly grieve, they have a world to save.

They are fighting side by side in mid-town Manhattan, taking out as many Chitauri as they can. She can see the determination on Clint’s face. She makes a comment that she knows he will appreciate.

“Just like Budapest all over again!” she shouts over the sounds of the battle. He hits a Chitauri square in the chest as he replies.

“You and I remember Budapest very differently,” he yells back. But there is the hint of a smile at his lips and Tasha knows she has lightened his grief just a little.

When the battle is over and Loki sent back to Asgard with Thor, Tasha is there for Clint. She helps him bury Phil. She makes him go to his psychiatrist. She holds him through his nightmares. And she is there when Phil’s name reappears on Clint’s hand, in a different color. She buys him more make-up to cover it up with (he’s done it before for missions). No one can know; there are too many questions they don’t have answers for. He tells her when he finds Phil again and she is happy for him. She only wishes that she had that happiness once in her life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The morning is cool enough that Sam throws on a sweatshirt before heading out on his morning run. He’s fine until some asshole, who is vaguely familiar, continues to pass him with the comment of “On your left.” Finally Sam has had enough and speeds up trying to catch him, but all it does is make him winded. He makes his way to a tree, where he collapses. He’s busy trying to catch his breath so he doesn’t notice when said asshole approaches.

“Need a medic?” the voice asks. Sam looks and laughs even though it hurts. Dude is buff. And Sam is no idiot; he knows who this is. He’s seen the press conferences, the battle footage and the paparazzi photos of Captain America visiting Peggy Carter’s grave. He’s gonna play it cool though, figures the guy’s been through enough without another fan fawning over him.

“I need a new set of lungs. Dude, you just ran like, thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start,” Steve replies with a smirk.

Sam smirks back. Captain America is funny. Who knew? “Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. Should take another lap,” he says, gesturing to the running path. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

“What unit you in?” Steve has noticed Sam’s shirt.

“58th Pararescue, but now I’m working down at the VA.” He offers his hand and Steve takes it pulling Sam up from the ground.

“Steve Rogers.”

“I kinda put that together Sam Wilson,” he responds. “Must have freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”

Steve nods. “Takes some getting used to. Good to meet you, Sam Wilson.”

Sam isn’t willing to let this opportunity go and relates to Steve soldier to soldier. He thinks for a moment that Steve might be flirting and it kind of rocks his world. Then he gets to recommend Marvin Gaye, which is awesome. Steve gets a text and says he has to go, probably to fight the bad guys. Sam is a little envious. A sleek, black sports car pulls up to the curb with a gorgeous redhead at the wheel. The window powers down and she turns to them.

“Hey fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.”

Steve walks to the car, commenting on her joke. Sam wants to laugh but he’s intrigued by the woman in the car. He crouches down to get a better look. He’s ignoring the tingling on his arm, right where his soul mark is. She leans forward to look past Steve at him.

“How you doing?” he asks.

“Hey,” she replies.

Steve, the cock-blocking shithead, moves and looks at Sam with a little smirk. “Can’t run everywhere.”

“No you can’t,” Sam comments as the car pulls away with a screech. He’s patient enough to wait until he gets home to find out what the tingling was all about. He pulls off the sweatshirt and looks in the mirror. The once funky script is now plain English. It reads _Tasha Romanoff_. That must be the redhead. Damn if Sam didn’t do well in the soul mate lottery.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“So, was that you flirting?” Steve asks as they drive down the mall.

Tasha doesn’t answer him at first as she weaves in and out of traffic. “Maybe, he was good looking.”

“I could set you up when we get back,” Steve offers.

“No, that’s okay, thank you. Besides, don’t you have your own love life to worry about?” she asks.

“Darcy and I are doing fine, thank you. I called her just yesterday.”

“I’m happy for you,” she says.

“You could be happy, too,” he replies. When did Steve Rogers become a matchmaker?

“Let’s get through the mission first.”

*~*~*~*~*

Of course Sam spots Steve standing in the door while he’s wrapping up his session. He really hopes Steve didn’t chat up Angela in reception. Now that Sam knows who his soul mate is, that’s all he can think about. He’s not sure he should bring it up now, because it’s kind of obvious Steve came here for a reason.

He ends up telling Steve about Riley. It still stings and there are often times Sam finds himself running fingers over the place where his platonic mark used to be. Steve offers up condolences and there is a brief moment of silence before Steve speaks.

“You happy now? Being in the world?”

Sam looks around. “The number of people giving me orders is down to about… _zero_. So hell yeah. You thinkin’ about gettin’ out?”

“No. I don’t know,” Steve says. He does look a little lost to Sam. “To be honest I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting,” Sam says instantly. Steve laughs, and Sam can’t help but fall under his spell. If he swung that way… “Just an idea off the top of my head. Seriously. You could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve just smiles. Sam knows that smile and wonders who Steve has at home. Whoever the lucky guy or gal is, Sam kind of envies them.

*~*~*~*~*

Tasha can’t believe that Fury is dead. But she witnesses it herself. Seeing is believing, mostly; she is a master assassin after all. She even examines his body to be sure. She ends up snatching the thumb drive Steve thinks he’s hidden. She waits for his return to confront him about it. He was there when Fury was shot. He saw the perpetrator.

She tells him about the Winter Soldier. If this is who killed Fury, she has two axes to grind. She owes the mysterious assassin a bullet. She disguises them so they can get into the drive. She hates the fact that she has to kiss him. Because he’s with Darcy now, the kiss is awkward. Afterward, in the car, she apologizes for it. He knows it was necessary.

When they get to the bunker, she refrains from teasing him about Agent Carter. She knows that grief never really goes away and they need to focus now. The ingenuity of the human race never ceases to amaze Tasha. So it shouldn’t surprise her that Arnim Zola found a way to cheat death. But when he recites their names and birthdays, she is surprised that he gets hers wrong. The 1984 date is part of her Natalie Rushman cover. Perhaps it has to do with the kind of equipment Zola is stored on.

When she awakens after the blast, she’s in a motel room on a bed. Steve is pacing, waiting for her to wake up. This is the second time this week that he’s rescued her. She hates owing people for that. They need someplace to go, someplace other than this sketchy room to clean up. Steve knows a place.

*~*~*~*~*

Sam has just returned from his morning run, having missed Steve the last couple of days, when he hears the knock on his back door. Steve and the redhead – Tasha – are standing there looking worse for wear.

“Hey man,” he says.

Steve looks tired. “I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low.”

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us,” Tasha says.

“Not everyone,” Sam replies, letting them in. Like he’s going to turn away Captain America and the woman who is apparently his soul mate. He looks around before closing the door.

“Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff,” Steve introduces.

“Nice to put a name to the gorgeous face,” Sam says, smiling. “Bathroom’s in the back. The washing machine’s off the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Steve says and they both wander off.

Sam leaves them to clean up. He scrounges around in his fridge for something to feed them. He interrupts their conversation to let them know about food. He catches a glimpse of a mark on Steve’s shoulder, like a wing, but says nothing. After they eat, they are discussing who could be behind all the goings on Steve and Natasha have experienced.

“So the question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?” Steve asks.

Sam knows the answer to this. Right after he met Steve he requested his file. He gets it now and drops it on the table. “The answer is you don’t.”

“What’s this?” Steve asks,

“Call it a resumé”

Natasha picks up the first file, looking at the picture on top. “Is this Babylon? The Khalil Khandid mission. That was you?” She seems impressed. Sam just smiles as she turns to Steve. “You didn’t say he was Pararescue.”

“This is Riley?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs,” Natasha says. “What did you use, a stealth chute?”

“No, these.” Sam picks up the other file, handing it to Steve. He looks at it.

“Though you said you were a pilot.”

Sam grins. “I never said pilot.”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t ask you to do this. You got out for a good reason.”

“Dude, _Captain America_ needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in,” Sam insists. Plus it might mean that he gets to spend more time with the mysterious Natasha, find out what kind of woman his soul mate is.

“Where can we get our hands on one of these things?” Steve shakes the folder.

“The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and twelve inch steel walls.”

Steve looks at Natasha who shrugs. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve says.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It feels damn good to have the wings back on, Sam thinks. He hauls the HYDRA bastard up the side of the building and dumps him on the roof. He shudders when he hears about what the plans are for Project Insight. He drives them all to a place Natasha calls the Triskelion. But when a man jumps onto the car and pulls the steering wheel out through the windshield, Sam knows all hell has broken loose.

The mystery man has a metal arm adorned with a red star. Sam knows that used to stand for Soviet Russia, so cyborg man must be HYDRA. There is a battle on the bridge and Sam has Steve’s back. Once the men are contained, Sam goes back for his wings. He flies around until he sees the metal-armed man, without his mask, holding a gun on Steve. Steve is doing nothing, so Sam attacks with his feet, dropping the man to the ground. Natasha stops everything with a blast from a rocket launcher.

Then they are surrounded and taken prisoner. Sam finds out that Steve has a girl, he hopes it’s her name that is in the mark he saw earlier. Then they are rescued by another mystery woman who Steve introduces as Maria. It’s a lot to take in as they escape to some hidden bunker in a dam. Maybe once Natasha’s shoulder has been seen to, he’ll have a chance to be alone with her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tasha winces as the doctor stitches her up. She now has two wounds thanks to the Winter Soldier. Or maybe she should start calling him Barnes. Apparently Steve’s best friend and soul mate is not dead after all. She wonders how much this will compromise him. The doctor leaves her, telling her to rest. She sees Sam standing in the doorway.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him.

“Sure you will,” he says. “Just thought we should talk since this is the first chance we’ve had to be alone.”

“About what?” She barely knows this man. She has been impressed by his past missions and by how he handles himself in the field. He is also undeniably good looking. But they have nothing in common other than Steve’s friendship.

He shrugs and comes into the room. “Look, there’s really no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna show you. Please don’t kill me for it.”

She gives him the barest of nods. He rolls up the right sleeve of his shirt and turns. Her name is written on his skin in a dark black with red highlights. She almost reaches out to touch it. Instead she starts to laugh and play with her necklace. It’s something that Clint gave her before he joined Phil’s team. It calms her to play with it.

“What’s so funny about you being my soul mate?” Sam asks, rolling the sleeve back down.

She looks up at him, serious again. “I cannot get a mark.”

“Oh? So you don’t have my name then?”

“I have no names. There is a reason for it, but it’s too complicated to explain right now.”

He nods to her hands. “What’s with the necklace? You seein’ someone?”

“No,” she laughs again, gently. “Clint, he has my name, in a platonic way. He gave it to me. He always said there was someone out there with my name. I never really believed him.”

Sam grins. “So there’s still a chance that you and I could…?”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Sam Wilson. Things that I have done. I suspect that before all of this is over you will find out about these things. When you do, you may decide otherwise. Until then, we need to focus on the mission.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Tasha,” he teases. “But I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to read my mark; I ain’t giving up so easily.”

*~*~*~*~*~

Sam really hopes that Steve is right about Barnes, because the fucker just ruined his wings. Sam is forced to land with a real parachute, but is fine otherwise. Hill directs him to go after Rumlow. Sam is more than happy to comply. He attacks from behind a door. Rumlow head-butts him, sending Sam to the floor. Then Rumlow starts talking as Sam checks to make sure he doesn’t have any loose teeth.

“This is gonna hurt. There are no prisoners with HYDRA. Just order. And order only comes from pain.” Sam is trying to get up and can’t believe this guy. He thought bad guys only monologued in movies. “You ready for yours?”

Sam stands and frowns. “Man, shut the hell up.”

They fight some more, Rumlow pushing him through a glass table at one point. Then Sam sees the falling Helicarrier heading their way and runs. He calls for Tasha.

“We’re on it, stay where you are,” she says.

“Not an option!” he yells throwing himself through the window. She catches him as he falls through the helicopter. When they land, they both are instantly calling every one they know isn’t HYDRA to find Steve.

They get the report that he’s been found by the side of the river. He’s been shot several times and is being taken to a nearby hospital. Tasha is right on getting him security. Then she calls Steve’s girl. Sam manages to be there when Steve’s out of surgery. He’s got his ipod in a dock, playing the Troubleman soundtrack when a dark haired girl straight out of a pin up poster comes barging in.

“Who are you?” she asks, then she really looks at him. “Are you the guy with the wings?”

“Sam Wilson,” he says, offering his hand. “You must be Darcy.”

“Well, I guess you must know the idiot in the bed then if you know my name,” she sighs. “Is he going to be okay? Nat didn’t tell me much when she called, and all I have to go on is the footage of all of you being taken into custody.”

“He’s fine. Gonna take a while to heal, but he’s fine. He’ll be glad to see you.”

“I’m sure, once I promise not to kill him. Is there a coffee machine around here? I left straight from the Tower to here and haven’t had my morning caffeination yet.”

“Down the hall, bring me back one too, please,” he asks, reaching for his wallet.

She shakes her head. “My treat. You did help keep my idiot boyfriend alive after all.”

She leaves and Sam smiles. He can see why Steve is happy with her. The music plays for a while and then he hears a croaky voice. “On your left.” He smiles more and leaves the couple alone when Darcy returns.

He goes home, still a little shaken by everything that’s happened to him. When he walks into his living room, he sees Natasha sitting there. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’s had a chance to look at the information that she let loose. He’s read her secrets. Sam is not turned off by what she’s done or who she is. She’s still as mysterious and intriguing as she was before.

“So, Natalia, or is it Natalie? Do you prefer Natasha?”

She smiles at him, weakly. She looks tired. She’s rubbing at her shoulder, where she was shot. He goes to the freezer and gets out a bag of frozen vegetables. He tosses it to her and she catches it, applying it to her shoulder.

“Tasha is fine. You’ve read my file then.”

“Yeah, didn’t change a thing.” He goes and sits next to her. “You have been working to change, to make amends for things in your past. I’m okay with that. I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. It’s why I chose to work at the VA. That’s my atonement.”

“You are a good man, Sam Wilson. Far too good for a woman like me,” she says softly.

He turns and looks at her. “Don’t care. I want to know who you are, Tasha Romanoff. I lucked out getting your name. My mama is gonna love you.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m already meeting your mother?”

“It’s inevitable. You won’t be able to resist my charms. Might as well give in and say yes to me right now.”

“I have to lie low for a while.”

“Stay here, it worked before. Get to know me, let me get to know you. After I help Steve. I know he’ll ask once he’s recovered. Why is he so set on getting Barnes back?”

“They were soul mates,” Natasha answers. “Back during the war. Steve can’t forget that.”

“Wow, that’s… wow. I get it now.” He pauses, then returns to the original subject. “So what about it, Tasha? Ready to give a broken bird a chance?”

She leans forward and kisses his cheek. “I’ve always had a fondness for broken birds.”

*~*~*~*~*

She spends the night in his guest room. Tasha isn’t sure how she should feel about Sam. There is a movie quote about relationships and intense experiences, she’s sure Clint would know what it is. But she can definitely call Sam a friend. More than that will have to wait. The next day they spend just talking. She tells him about what was done to her so that she cannot receive a mark.

“Have you ever thought about what science today can do about that?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “The serum, it changed my DNA. Fused the chemical suppressant into my very being.”

“Oh, sorry. I mean, that’s gotta seriously suck.”

“I was angry about it for a very long time,” she replies.

The next day she goes out to collect the files for Steve and to tell him about the man she once knew as Yasha. She returns to tell Sam the same.

“Do I get to be jealous of him?” he asks as they sit down for dinner.

“No, it was merely a crush. The desperate yearnings of youth.”

Steve calls Sam the next day to accompany him and Darcy to New York before the hunt for Bucky begins.

“Told you he’d call,” he tells her.

“So you did. Take your wings, see what Stark can do for them,” she advises. “I’ll be fine here on my own.”

“Sure you will be. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says as he picks up his duffel and heads for the door.

Tasha is uncertain she should just let him go like that. She gets up from the couch, calling his name. He stops and turns. She walks up to him and puts a hand to his cheek. She presses a gentle kiss to his lips. He drops the duffel and frames her face with his hands. Sam kisses her like it’s a promise of something to come. She pulls away and smiles at him.

“Be careful out there.”

He grins at her. “Yes, ma’am. Gotta come back to get me more of that.” He grabs the duffel again and leaves. She wonders what it is about him that makes her want more, want everything the people around her have.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam is welcomed by the rest of the Avengers. He kind of feels like the new kid on the block, but they treat him like family. Stark takes one look at his damaged wings and promises to make him something better and faster. Thor is like a giant puppy. Bruce is chill enough. And it’s here that he finally gets to meet Phil Coulson and Clint Barton.

“Hawkeye,” he says, trying to be serious as he shakes hands with his soul mate’s platonic.

“Falcon,” Clint replies, equally serious. They measure each other up before grinning. “So, you’re Tasha’s soul mate.”

“Seems like,” Sam says.

“I’d warn you that if you hurt her, I’ll kill you, but…”

“If I hurt her, _she’ll_ kill me,” Sam finishes.

“Damn straight.”

It takes a couple of days before they leave. But once in the Quinjet, Steve seems extra determined. Steve implies that he and Darcy got Barnes’s name as an extra soul mark. It’s a good reason to want to find him quickly. Sam calls Tasha when he can. They talk about everything and nothing, settling into an easy rapport. When Darcy gets hurt and they have to return to the States, Sam takes the opportunity to return home.

Tasha is in the kitchen, cooking, when he gets there. She looks over her shoulder, smiling as he drops his bag and makes his way to her. Sam takes a sniff, trying to figure out what she’s making.

“Welcome back,” she says. “How’s Darcy?”

“She’s gonna be fine, Steve’s a mess though,” he replies. He approaches her cautiously. “Can I…?”

She sets the spoon she was stirring with on the counter, turning to him. “I won’t bite, unless you want me too.”

“We’ll save that for later,” he says softly. He steps closer, pressing a kiss to her lips. She wraps her arms around him, trying to make it more than it is. Sam pulls them away gently, backing away. “No, Tasha. We’re gonna do this my way. Let me seduce you, okay?” She nods and goes back to the pot.

“I hope you like goulash.”

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he answers.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Tasha thinks she should be frustrated by how slow she and Sam are taking things. But he was right, and he is charming enough that she goes with what he wants. She has never been in a real relationship. Tasha has only ever known seduction as a weapon. It surprises her how willing she is to put herself in his hands, to let Sam guide her through this. She has changed, most certainly for the better.

There has been the occasional kiss here and there, lots of soft touches, but mostly it’s been flirting; both blatant and subtle. He takes her out to eat, nothing fancy, just to the small restaurants that dot the neighborhood. Sam never calls them dates, but Tasha thinks that they might be. Then they get invited to some Avengers function in New York. It’s been six months since they took down HYDRA. She is hesitant to break the spell of their idyllic cocoon.

“Come on, Tasha, it’s the Avengers. You’re one of those,” Sam protests.

“So are you,” she answers. He stops for a moment gaping. He’s helped out here and there but there hasn’t been a formal invitation to join up. She knows it is coming.

Sam shakes his head. “Not really. But come on, I’d love to see you dressed up.”

“I can’t hide forever,” she agrees. “We’ll have to spend the night.”

“Not a problem, Stark keeps telling me there’s a room at his fancy tower whenever I want it.”

Tasha nods. She decides she will bring along the new piece of jewelry she bought for herself a while back. She had stopped wearing the arrow right after everything happened. It is something that is too recognizable. But now, she wants something on her neck again, something that tells Sam she is open to the next step in whatever it is they are building together.

She says nothing when Tony tells her that her room is next to Sam’s. She has chosen her wardrobe for the function carefully. It is part seduction, part armor. She is putting her heart on the line for the first time and she hopes – wants – to believe that Sam won’t let her down. When he comes to collect her he lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Dayum, Tasha, you clean up good,” he says, twirling her around.

She laughs, low and dangerous as she spins. When she stops she puts her hands on his chest. “I could say the same for you, Sam.”

“What’s this?” he says, running a finger along her collar bone, following the links of her necklace. He raises the charm with the tip of his finger. “You telling me something, Tash?”

She looks down to see the golden falcon gleaming against his dark skin. She looks back to Sam, seeing the question in his eyes. “Perhaps. We should go, the party is waiting.”

He nods, letting the charm fall back to her neck. There is dancing. Sam leads her deftly around the floor, barely relinquishing her the entire night. Tasha’s heart is light. She is unsure of what to call the emotion she feels for him. She knows nothing of what love should feel like. One of the dances Sam lets her go for is with Clint. Clint knows her too well.

“Okay, Miss Broody-is-my-middle-name, what’s up?” he asks as they move across the floor.

She looks at him with a smile. “What does love feel like?”

“Ah, I was wondering if you’d ever ask me that. I think Phil owes me money,” he grins.

“Clint,” she sighs.

“It’s different for everyone, Уважаемый одним из. What do you feel? If you’re wearing that necklace, you must feel something.”

She frowns for a moment. “I like spending time with him. It’s… effortless. I don’t feel like I am trying to be someone I’m not. With him… I can be me. He makes me feel… cherished.”

“Sounds like love to me, Tasha. If it helps any, I think Sam’s totally gone for you too, soul mark notwithstanding.”

She says nothing else for the rest of the dance. When Clint kisses her cheek and puts her hand in Sam’s once more, she feels lighter. He smiles at her and Tasha realizes that Clint is right. Sam loves her, even if he hasn’t said the words. And somewhere along the line she has let herself fall in love with him. She almost laughs with the joy of the revelation.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Sam asks.

Her lips quirk further upward. “Why don’t you take me back to your room and find out?”

“Thought I was the one doing the seducin’,” he says, leading her swiftly off the dance floor.

“You are,” she assures him. Luckily for them both the function is being held in the Tower. The elevator ride up is quiet, but Sam can’t seem to keep his hands off of her. He is touching her back, her arms, holding her hand as they exit the elevator and walk down the hall to his room.

Once inside Sam is kissing her, soft and sweet and eager. She laughs against his lips as she pulls his shirt from his pants, wanting to get her own hands on his skin. He moves his mouth to her neck, licking and sucking at her pulse. She pushes his jacket from his body, moving to work at the buttons of the shirt.

“Beautiful, gorgeous,” Sam whispers along her skin as he slowly pulls on the zipper of her dress.

“Sam,” she whines as he teases fingers over her breasts. He stops long enough to strip off his shirt. Now it’s her turn to kiss skin, caress the mark on his arm. Her name shines in the light, a testament to her importance in his life.

He groans as her tongue flicks at his nipple. “Tasha, god woman, you’re killing me here.”

“Not yet,” she says, moving back up to his mouth. They kiss, hot and wet and even more eager than before. She moves away, pulling down the straps her dress. It falls to the floor, pooling at her feet. She is standing there in nothing but her heels and the necklace now.

“Fuck,” Sam drawls. “We’d never have gone down if I’d known.” He takes her hand and pulls her towards the bedroom. She steps out of the dress and follows.

He divest himself of the rest of his clothes along the way, hopping as he takes off shoes and socks. She goes to takes off her heels but he stops her with a rough “Leave them on.” She does, arranging herself on the bed as she waits for him. Sam lies down next to her, touching her gently. His fingers drift along her thighs and she lets her legs fall open for him.

“Tasha, my Tasha,” he says, fingers gliding over her folds before pressing into her softly, slowly. “You drive me crazy.”

She pushes up against him, pulling him in for a kiss. “Sam, please. I want you.”

“Gonna have me, sweet Tasha.” His other hand tugs gently on the necklace. “Tell me, Tasha.” His fingers work in and out of her. She is close, so close.

“Sam… Sam...” she chants, gasping for breath. “Love you.”

He twist his fingers, thumb brushing over her clit. She screams his name as the orgasm washes over her. He claims her mouth again as she relaxes. His fingers pull out, and he swings himself over her body, settling between her thighs.

“Love you, my Tasha.” She looks up at him. She hooks a leg around his waist, digging the heel of her shoe into his back. “I need anything?”

“No, I can’t… no,” she says. Sam nods, pushing into her. He is thick and she moans as her body stretches around him. It has been so long since she’s done this. He is patient and goes slow. She moves with him. They trade soft touches, whispered words as he brings her closer to the edge again.

“Come for me again, Tasha,” he pants, moving faster now. He grips her hips tightly, and she moans his name as she falls. He thrusts into her once, twice before he is spilling into her. Tasha catches him as he sags against her. He pulls out slowly, moving to lie next to her again.

“I do love you, Sam,” she whispers.

He grins. “I know. Told you it was inevitable.” He kisses her. His expression is gentle when he pulls back. “Wanna talk about it?”

“When I read my file, from the Red Room,” she begins, leaning into his caress. “They said I couldn’t have children. Not out right, but I could read between the lines. In all these years, I’ve never…”

Sam pulls hers closer, holding her tight. “We can find out for sure. If you want. Kids aren’t a deal breaker, Tasha. I’m still gonna love you. Wanna spend the rest of my life with you. You up for that?”

“Hell of a proposal, Sam,” she comments, smiling. “But I am. And I do, want to find out, eventually.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam officially proposes six months later. The opal sparkles with colors Tasha can’t name and she happily wears it when she isn’t working. They uses Tony’s medical staff to run tests for them. She’ll be able to have children, but will need a little help. Sam says they can wait if she wants. She doesn’t. They still have fun practicing.

When they do make it down the aisle, their daughter Anna is their flower girl. Twin sons, Riley and Steven, come a few years later. Sam officially joins the Avengers. They split their time not saving the world between New York and D.C. Tasha gets Sam’s name tattooed on her shoulder. He loves to run his hands over it when they are alone. They are surrounded by family and friends, happy and free of the burdens they used to carry. Their ledgers are wiped clean.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it everyone, my magnum opus. Thank you again to everyone who has read this series. It has been a part of my life for a solid two months now. Thank you for every kudo and comment, it makes my day.
> 
> I'm marking the series as complete, but you never know, I may add more.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://secondalto.tumblr.com/), the ask box is always open.


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